


Nothing Like the Rest

by Schadenfreudessa



Series: Of Monsters and Men [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Dancing, Frottage, M/M, Reunion Sex, Thor's coronation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-03 13:10:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2851985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schadenfreudessa/pseuds/Schadenfreudessa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Loki and Tony's first official day as a couple again, but they don't get to celebrate until after Thor's coronation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I met a man today

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place immediately after the end of 'Sleep Until the Sun Goes Down'.

“So, how long was I out?” Tony finally asks. They’ve shifted around a little to get more comfortable, side by side on the bed with Tony’s head on the Loki’s shoulder and the god’s arm holding him close. Nothing has actually happened yet – apparently laughing at Loki’s obvious desperation is a big turn-off for the god - but it doesn’t seem as important as this simple intimacy anyway. Tony’s basking in it, incapable of even pretending to be discontent when it’s like he’s woken up from a decade long nightmare to nebulas coloring the night sky and warm, liquid gold running through his veins, easing away tension and aches he can’t remember earning. Loki’s chin is resting atop Tony’s head, and he would bet that the god’s eyes are closed as he just feels everything as well, even if Tony knows he isn’t asleep.

Loki hums in response to Tony’s question, but he turns his head and tucks his face into the smaller man’s hair. Tony chuckles softly at the warm breath against his scalp, lightly bumping his temple against the god’s lips when no answer soon follows. Loki huffs in obvious amusement, but returns to his previous position, cheek lying against Tony’s head, and speaks.

“Just over a day now”, the god states quietly, feigning indifference though Tony doesn’t doubt the stress and unhappiness that lie hidden. Not with the way Loki’s long fingers are picking at the loose Asgardian pajamas that Tony woke up in, moving restlessly and absently against his hip. “It took two hours for my mother and several of Asgard’s best healers to remove both the arc reactor and shrapnel from your body, than guide the apple’s magic as it attempted to reconstruct the damaged portions of your chest”.

Unconsciously, Tony’s fingers come up to drum against his sternum where the arc reactor should be, the movement feeling strange enough to startle him without the hard click of metal and glass under his hand. He frowns, hand pressing flat and rubbing through his shirt at the area but feeling out of place and almost hollow. Loki distracts him by lying his own hand over Tony’s and halting his uncomfortable shifting. “And Amora?” Tony asks, not moving his hand, but looking for a distraction.

“Imprisoned”. Loki’s answer is drawn out and slow in coming. Tilting his chin up, Tony catches Loki’s eye, raising an eyebrow until the god continues with a sigh. “I may have been overly cruel in the execution of her punishment. A rest in the cells didn’t seem harsh enough in my estimation, and so I took further action”. Restless shifting from Tony prompts Loki to go on. “I… took away her magic, in a way”.

Tony sits up onto his elbows, twisting sideways to look down at Loki where he lies. The god’s long hair is spilling across the pillows like liquid black, pooling around his shoulders. Tony has been playing with it as they cuddled, but now as it frames Loki’s face… Tony thinks of a dark hood pulled low over the pale, haunted face of his god, and he speaks quietly with a frown. “You can do that?”

“It is like your invention from long ago, only this is no temporary block but a permanent removal of a wielder’s inherent abilities”. Loki’s eyes blank even as he meets Tony’s worried gaze. “If done with care and caution, the process takes several days, causes tolerable amounts of pain for the one losing their magic, and has a potential for madness that is often unavoidable, over time”.

“And you weren’t exactly careful”, Tony follows, leaning over Loki and placing a hand on the god’s cheek, feeling the slight chill of Loki’s skin growing enough to actually sting.

“No”, Loki admits, voice dropping and brow furrowed. “She was- there was nothing left of her”. He frowns, eyes closing and expression caught in an uncomfortable scowl, but he turns into Tony’s hand as if soaking up the comfort. “It was revolting, far more so than I had anticipated”.

“Is that why-“, Tony starts, but thinks better of it almost immediately.

Loki picks up on it, though, and answers, much to Tony’s surprise. “When you had built that machine and used it so suddenly in battle, I had thought you had somehow learned to do as I did to Amora today. I would have preferred death, embraced it even, than live an eternal life without that part of myself”. Goosebumps rise on Loki’s arms, and Tony runs his hands along the chilled skin to bring some comfort and warmth. “I have experienced many types of imprisonment that limit my magic, but they only dampen it, lock the flow of it beneath my skin. Your machine steals it, draws that power out from a user’s blood and flesh until the machine turns off and it returns”. 

“But Amora is never getting it back”.

“Correct”, Loki sighs, drawing Tony closer as if to leech some of his body heat. “As it is, Amora isn’t even coherent enough to realize that, and she might never be again”. Loki’s eyes remain closed, and his expression is pinched with anxiety that Tony doesn’t want to see on his Trickster’s face ever again.

In an attempt to ease that, Tony hums in neutral acknowledgment, kissing Loki softly to draw the Trickster’s thoughts back to the present. He can hear what Loki isn’t saying, the regret and shame for his actions that even now Loki won’t admit to. It’s a chaste brush of their lips together, but Loki leans into it. When he pulls back, the god is focused on him again, so Tony lays across his chest with a pleasant smile.

“Skurge managed to escape, though”, Loki comments idly, fingers moving up to trace along Tony’s back. “Whatever link he bears with Amora gave him ample warning, and he fled using what appears to be a predetermined teleportation spell stored within a small trinket, presumably given to him by Amora for such an eventuality”.

“No luck tracking him down?”

“Heimdall is looking, but Amora knows – knew how to shield her dwellings from his sight”. Tony nods, but he doesn’t really care. He’s much too comfy now, and not even the knowledge the Skurge is running loose is going to kill his buzz. Besides, there isn’t much the big lug is capable of doing without Amora’s magic to back him up.

“Everything is alright, though? No one hurt or dying?” Tony does feel compelled to ask, and Loki snorts loudly.

“Skurge charged blindly into a hall not only filled with nearly the entire might of Asgard, but also the greatest warriors and princes of all the nine realms, many of whom relish a good brawl. He came nowhere near to Thor or even your Avengers, much to my brother’s disappointment. Dr. Banner never even lost his temper”. Loki chuckles, the sound vibrating through Tony’s chest. “Thor’s coronation was postponed, and many are beginning to wonder if the oaf will ever be made King when the Norns seem so determined to prevent it”.

“As I recall”, Tony shoots back, “It wasn’t the Viking Fates that ruined Thor’s coronation the first time around”. 

“Not even those that control the lives of the gods could have foreseen how incompetent and mulish my brother would turn out to be”. It’s said in mocking seriousness, and Tony gives in to laughter, shaking his head as Loki’s face lights up in a playful smirk. The quick upturn in mood rings somewhat hollow to Tony, but it’s a diversionary tactic he is well acquainted with. There is no need to strain their relationship so soon by pressing the topic of Amora’s punishment and how Loki feels about it, so Tony lets it lie and snickers into Loki’s chest instead.

The laughter falls into quiet comfort, a lull in conversation that Tony enjoys more than he would really admit. It’s a novelty he’s rarely given, this restfulness uninterrupted by business or genius or trouble. Tony doesn’t have to think – doesn’t really want to think – and he lets the hum of silence fill up his brain and just exists amongst the white noise of the universe, Loki’s heart beat under his cheek the only anchor that keeps Tony centered and grounded.

It makes the banging on the door only that much louder, startling Tony so badly that only Loki’s arms around his waist keeps him from flailing his way off the bed and onto the floor. The god is chuckling as Tony huffs, and the banging on the door just keeps going.

“Enter”, Loki calls out, and the door slides open to reveal Bruce looking amused and a smirking Clint with his fist still raised from knocking. He saunters into the room first, and the rest of the team follows with smiles that are more relief than anything else. The only one missing is Thor, and Tony glares in no little annoyance and some confusion as well, but doesn’t make any move to push away from Loki. He’s content to stare the team down from his comfortable spot in the bed even if the effect is surely ruined by how they seem to be cuddling.

“Look at our little lovebirds”, the archer says, flopping dramatically into one of the chairs along the wall of Loki’s room, “already making a nest”. At least he’s smart enough not to approach the bed, or Tony might have had to do something unspeakable to him with an arrow and engine lubricant. Bruce has no problems doing just that, however, despite the strength of Tony’s glower. He stands next to the bed, staring pointedly at Tony until the man clambers over Loki and out of the bed with a sigh. Tony ignores Loki’s soft laugh behind him as Bruce begins to do a short physical.

Steve speaks up when Tony makes no attempt to do so. “We thought we would give you and Loki some time before visiting”. Bruce is dragging the engineer’s shirt off to examine his chest where the arc reactor used to be, so Tony’s reply is muffled into the linen of the tunic.

“You could have waited a bit longer”, he grumps, and Bruce snorts at the pout Tony is sporting when the shirt finally comes off.

“We gave you plenty of time”, Natasha shoots back. “It’s your fault for taking so long if you haven’t gotten off yet”. Tony tries to glare at her, but Nat is entirely unaffected as she sits on the edge of the bed next to Loki.

Steve interrupts, “We have to start getting ready for the coronation anyway, and Thor wants Loki to help with some last minute preparations”.

“Wait”, Tony starts, shooting the blonde a startled look. “The coronation is today?” 

“Yes”, Steve says with an annoyed sigh. “Loki was supposed to mention that”. Tony frowns as he puts on the shirt Bruce hands him, recognizing it as the one that came with the outfit Loki had made.  
Loki huffs, sitting up now and looking far too amused by the Avengers’ displeasure. “I did mention that the event had been postponed, did I not, Anthony?”

“Forgot that bit about it being today, though”, Tony snips back.

“I never said it wasn’t”.

“You-“, is all Tony can manage to say before Steve cuts in.

“Thor is waiting for you”, he warns, staring Loki down until the god finally slides out of bed with an exasperated noise. He makes no more fuss, though, straightening his clothes briefly and haughtily as the team watches, seemingly unconcerned with the attention focused on him, or that he is leaving all of them in his own bedroom. But when he steps away towards the door, Tony catches his arm, tugging the god to a stop. 

“See you soon”, Tony croons, and he leans up a bit to brush a soft kiss against Loki’s cheek. When he pulls back, rocking onto his heels, the god is smiling so unexpectedly doleful that Tony almost does it again.

“Soon”, Loki agrees in a quiet voice, a hand briefly cupping Tony’s cheek. This time, Tony doesn’t stop him from walking away, but only because he looks just a little less sad and a lot more hopeful. A fluttering warmth in Tony’s chest makes his lips pull into something a little like a smile on his face. The others gathered around make no comment, and Loki is nearly out the door before he breaks the silence himself. “Do make sure to wear the outfits provided for you”, he calls, sounding much more like a prince as he gestures to an assortment of packages that appear at the foot of the bed. Then he’s gone out the door, and Tony brings out the charm and a laugh like he needs it to feel normal – it’s not all that far from the truth.

“Maybe this time we can make it to the coronation, at least”.


	2. He smiled back at me

They do manage to make it to the actual ceremony this time, and Tony’s where he should be instead of hiding from his feelings in the library. The throne room is opened wide, the walls retracted to allow for as many people as possible. It feels like the entire population of Asgard is gathered. From his place on one of the steps leading up to the throne, Tony can see over the sea of people; the cheering, writhing mass pours out into the grassy gardens and shaded pavilions like a Viking Woodstock. Odin stands at the head of it all, atop the throne’s dais and towering stoic over the people with Frigga and Loki the next step down, one on each of the Odin’s sides. Tony is on Frigga’s side of the platform, Bruce and Natasha on the descending stairs after him, and across from them is Sif, followed by Steve then Clint.

The Avengers are all resplendent in their Asgardian garb, provided by Loki, and they’re so well-fit to each hero that Tony thinks it couldn’t have been as much of a last minute gift as it had seemed. Tony’s wearing his own outfit from the first night there, no longer uncomfortable with what the clothing means to Loki or what it says to the rest of Asgard. It feels almost like a second-skin now, and it does match the cane, which Tony carries even if he doesn’t actually need it. He feels better with the familiar weight in his hand, plus he looks cool. At his side, tucked into a small holster on the belt of his outfit, Loki’s knives sit, a reminder of the tournament when he was given them and a tribute the god that gave them to him.

Steve, Bruce, and Clint are all wearing outfits with a simpler cut, closer to Thor’s tastes of straightforward armor than Loki’s complicated system of buckles and interlocking straps. Steve’s ensemble is a deep navy blue featuring a dark silver breastplate and pauldrons, all heavily embossed with straight, geometric lines in blue. The lines dance around the polished star sitting square in the center of the breastplate, drawing the eye to it. Dark silver accents line matching navy trousers held up by a black and silver belt, and more silver glints subtly against the heavy leather boots as Steve stands easily at parade rest, iconic shield strapped to his back. 

Clint’s outfit is most similar to his Avenger’s gear, with a high-collar leather jerkin that falls to his hips and leather pants. Silver embroidery and scattered rivets add faint, intricate patterns to the black leather, and tie into the metal plating of Clint’s knee-high boots and arm guards. He is wearing a fitted, dark purple shirt underneath the leather, the long sleeves disappearing under the metal and leather gracing his forearms. It matches – unsurprisingly, really – with the quiver and folding bow slung along his back, and every so often the archer shifts as if reassuring himself that his weapon and ammunition are actually there. Or possibly just bored and restless, Tony thinks with a smirk.

Bruce too is shifting at Tony’s side, but more likely because he’s not quite comfortable being in front of so many people like this. He’s wearing clothes colored dark heather grey and muted slate green, softer than the toxic color of the Hulk. Despite his normal aversion to wearing green, Bruce hadn’t protested putting on the Asgardian garb, and actually seemed to like the clothing. Tony can see why; his science buddy looks good in the outfit. The main piece is a fitted, square-shouldered jacket in green that falls to Bruce’s knees, carefully buttoned at his waist so that it holds its shape while still showing off the soft grey tunic beneath. Fabric trousers – looking infinitely more comfortable than everyone else’s leather – are tightened by straps around Bruce’s calves before tucked into the neck of his mid-calf boots.

Natasha’s ensemble, though, is Tony’s favorite – aside from his own, of course. She’s wearing a gunmetal shift made of some type of light, flexible chainmail, almost a mesh of metal that moves silently when she does. It falls to her hips, just as tightly fitted as her normal catsuit, and underneath she has on black leather leggings and knee-high boots with a slight heel. The outfit is completed by dark gold bangles reminiscent of Tasha’s offensive bracers and a matching belt sitting on her hips. Tony hopes that she’ll let him at least scan the metal of the shift, because it looks so much like a blackened mithril that it makes his inner nerd scream – he might despise Tolkien but no self-respecting engineer would turn down the chance to study that material. If she won’t, though, he can always ask Loki.

Loki, who is standing regally above, and who Tony’s eyes keep drifting to as they wait for the ceremony to begin. His outfit isn’t like anything Tony has seen him in before, a blending of the robes he seems to favor now along with the heavy leather and metal elements of his armor from before. The god looks imposing in a gold, high-collared gorget that spans the width of his shoulders, an elaborate and stylized wolf baring it’s fangs on the metal. He is also wearing gold vambraces on his forearms, gold and black leather plating on his chest, thighs, and along the front of his knee-high boots. Underneath the chest plate and neck piece is a floor length robe in deep, emerald green. It’s cut away in the front to expose Loki’s sinful legs, and the long sleeves tucked under the vambraces to fall at his wrists. Atop that, he wears a knee length vest that is entirely open from the front, hanging loosely over the robes and armor, but tied in close by a black belt with an ornate gold ouroboros at the front.

What’s most striking, however, is the return of his golden horns, and Tony can’t help but admire their updated look. The helmet is sleeker now, not sitting so close around Loki’s face. The horns themselves are thinner, almost delicate in their grace, and not jutting so aggressively forward. From the back of the helmet, Loki’s long hair is cascades from a high ponytail that pulls right through the metal and gold, looking like the plume of a medieval knight. By all means, it should look absolutely silly, and Tony had always felt justified in joking about Loki’s goat horns before, but he isn’t going to be doing so now. It looks good, more so even than Tony could have ever imagined before this moment, and it’s all too easy to believe that today is Loki’s coronation instead of his brother’s. For Tony, it’s no contest that Loki has stolen all of Thor’s spotlight today, and he keeps his eyes locked on the Trickster until the crowd bursts into cheers and the Thunder god makes his entrance.

Thor is too far away for Tony to really see him as he approaches the dais, plus he is taking his sweet time walking up through the parted crowd, so Tony people-watches instead, picking out the delegations and royalty from the other realms. The Jotuns are easiest to spot, blue and gray faces amongst a sea of pinkish skin tones and also the closest group to where Tony is standing. He’s idly curious about them, knowing Loki’s history as he does, and the calm group of diplomats dressed and draped in layers of rich, colorful fabrics aren’t at all like what he had been led to expect. Then again, there was a definite bias to even what Loki knew at the time.

One woman stands front and center in the group, red eyes catching the light so that they almost glow. She’s got long black hair hanging in a heavy braid along her shoulder, falling from underneath a scarf elaborately wrapped around her head. It’s a pale lavender color that shines like silk, draped halfway back on her head and held in place with a gold pin at her neck. She’s wearing a long, straight skirt in the same purple color that hangs to just below her knees, and over top that is a short-sleeved jacket almost entirely golden from the heavily styled appliques of intertwining loops and curls over a black background. Her legs are covered in stockings of some kind that are striped in blacks, golds, and deeper purples, ending at her ankles and leaving her feet bare beneath the thin straps of delicate sandals.

Her features are sharp to the point of appearing delicate, and the poise and boredom in her expression makes it obvious to Tony that she is the most important of the group, probably royalty herself. The group assembled around her is mostly larger Jotun men, though another woman stands behind the first. She’s shorter, her face rounder, and her skin is such a pale blue that it could be grey. Her outfit is similar to the first woman’s, but her hair is completely covered and she’s wearing brown and pink. The men around them are in a wide array of different colors but with matching style and cut, in knee-length skirts and vests or jackets over bands wrapped in a cross over their chests and a wide belt at their waists. Tony makes a note to speak with them later, unable to suppress his curiosity about Loki’s origins and alien cultures both.

The Dwarven delegation are distinguishable by all being slightly shorter and stockier than the surrounding people, though they aren’t that much shorter than the average human, probably. The general fashion amongst them seems to be unadorned fabric pants and a distinctive lack of shirts. There isn’t anyone who stands out as royalty or a dignitary at all, but Tony might be missing some aspect of dwarf culture that could clue him in. Those are the only two groups that Tony can actually identify, though. There’s a group of Aesir looking people next to the Jotuns wearing a lot of furs and not enough metal to actually be from Asgard, but with only a passing familiarity with the other Nine Realms, he can’t really say where exactly they are from. Any other groups of important people are completely lost amongst the sea of people, looking too similar to the people of Asgard for him to pick out.

But playing Spot the Aliens is done as Thor finally makes his way to the front, taking a knee at the foot of the dais and carefully making eye contact with the friends and family. Tony finds himself a bit surprised; the god is wearing only a red tunic and gray trousers with boots, no armor or finery at all. He has Mjolnir, yes, and sets it at his side where he kneels, but his hair is hanging loose and unadorned, just as plain as the clothing he wears. Still, when Thor turns those electric blue eyes to Tony, he can’t help but flash the god a little thumbs-up from his side, winking for effect. Thor takes it with a slightly larger grin and a nod, the smile only fading as he up looks to Odin, who has been stoic and silent throughout it all.

“Today”, the All-Father begins, voice clearly ringing out through the open hall as everyone goes silent, “has been a day we have all waited many years for. Not only are these Nine Realms now at peace, and prosperity blooming on all branches of the great Yggdrasil, but many are finding the happiness they had thought unattainable”. For a second, Tony can almost think that Odin’s stare falls heavily on him, but the feeling passes as the old god continues on. “This bright new era needs new leaders, a new generation to forge this light into something strong and everlasting. I have been too long in the darkness of the past to truly be the ruler that this realm or people deserve, and so today, as a new light shines over us all, I pass on my title and power to a worthy successor”.

Odin steps down from the throne, just one step, but Tony feels as if he is holding his breath in the face of this moment. “Thor Odinson”, the old god calls loudly, looking only to Thor now as the Thunderer bows his head low. “Once you knelt here before the realms, and you swore to things you could not uphold. It was not so far ago in the span of our lives, as long as they are, that you proved yourself incapable of this throne – too impetuous, too foolhardy, too much a child still when what was needed was a man. Do you think yourself now worthy for this burden of a crown?”

“Aye!” Thor cries, head still bowed low but voice loud and clear as it resounds through the silence of the masses. Odin doesn’t blink at all, doesn’t move for a long moment until he raises his spear and brings it down hard, banging the butt of it against the metal step in a way that sets the whole building to ringing with a deep, vibrating note. The hairs on the back of Tony’s neck rise, and he shivers with the echoing toll of the hall.

As the sound begins to die, Odin’s voice rises above it. “Aye, says he”, the god exclaims. “And who else shall uphold his claim?”

“I shall”, Frigga adds with no hesitation, staring openly and regally at Odin as the King meets her gaze, nodding slightly.

By that cue, Loki speaks out, “And I as well”. When Odin turns to look at Loki as he did at Frigga, the Trickster’s eyes are flickering with challenge and fire, but the old King only inclines his head again. From there, the voices come rolling in, each spoken clearly but with little to no time for Odin to acknowledge each.

“I, my King”, says Sif.

“I do too”, Clint adds.

“I do, sir”, Steve states, and Natasha and Bruce pitch in as well.

Tony, unable to really help himself, just yells, “Ditto!” and he grins when Steve sighs at him and Loki smirks.

The calls of support spread down into the crowd, masses of Aesir all raising their voices in support of Thor. Tony even sees the diplomats of the other realms doing the same, and he watches as the Lady of Jotunheim raises her voice as well, though the sound of it is lost long before it reaches to Tony. The clamor continues until it feels almost overwhelming, the noise pressing in against Tony’s skin unpleasantly, but Odin stops it then, banging his spear again and setting the entire hall to reverberating with a single tone.

When the note is gone and silence again reigns, Odin steps down farther, stopping only one above where Thor kneels. “Thor Odinson”, he begins again, but now his voice is softer, more personal, “my son. Your loved ones, your realm, and your people find you worthy. They have chosen you for this task, for this right of kingship”. Odin takes the last step, standing squarely before Thor. “Rise, my son, and take your new place at the head of this Realm Eternal”.

Thor straightens, then, rising to his feet with confidence and solemn bearing. He’s staring at Odin, on level as equals now, but then the old god stands to one side, and Thor ascends the stairs with a slow, weighty gate. Tony watches him, but Thor only looks straight ahead; his blue eyes are pale under the shadow of his somber gaze. It’s a long hushed minute, nearly an age, before Thor stands at the foot of the throne, and everything feels stalled, held tremulous and waiting in this limbo between one King and the next. It drags and hesitates as Thor turns, poised above the hall and the people, but he stands tall and strong under the burden. Tony is in awe of the sheer majesty that exudes from his friend, and he doesn’t think he’s ever felt more proud of the blonde god.

Odin layers over the tension with deep baritone, and a thrum of noiseless magic seems to be building in the room and under Tony’s skin. “Do you swear to guard the Nine Realms?”

“I swear”, Thor replies gravely. He’s looking out at the people, swearing these promises to them and not his father.

“And do you swear to preserve the peace?” Frigga questions next, her voice seeming to echo with ageless, far-reaching power.

“I swear”. Thor is growing louder, his presence amplifying and driving the breath from Tony’s lungs.

Loki’s query is last, spoken with gravity and green magic flickering in his eyes and in his speech. “Do you swear to cast aside all selfish ambitions for the good of this realm, its people, and all others?”

“I swear”, Thor vows, and the power in the air is nearly unbearable, but Tony couldn’t move if he tried.

“Then on this day, let Thor Odinson take up the mantle of All-Father and become a true King to his people!”, Odin calls, and Thor lifts Mjolnir high, roaring as light and lightening explodes around him.

“For Asgard!” The flash of white is blinding and the thunder is deafening as the tension snaps, a moment of intense, driving force that makes Tony briefly reconsider his atheism even as his knees buckle dangerously. It’s gone in a moment, and it feels like a vacuum in the hall as he tries to draw air back into his trembling lungs. Glad for the cane now, he collects himself enough to look around as cheers erupt in the hall, and he can’t help but to grin up at Thor, absolutely delighted.

The Thunderer stands at the throne, still holding Mjolnir aloft but no longer in the simple clothes he had started in. Instead, the blonde god is in full armor, silver metal curving in broad strokes across his chest and sweeping into a collar at his neck. Blue leather underneath makes the metal stand out brightly against his chest and legs, with red borders dancing in between and reaching up to the deep red cloak he wears atop it all, falling back from his raised arm and draped over the other to be clenched tightly in Thor’s hand. Vambraces adorn his bare arms, elaborately wrapped silver curves that overlap and dance from wrist to elbow. Thor’s hair is pulled back loosely into a tie at the base of his neck, and a few strands dance as his power settles from the display. His fierce growl has faded, and he is grinning out to the crowd with pride and affection.

The masses are wild with fervor, screaming and crying out in absolute joy for their new king. Someone starts up a chant of “King Thor”, and it spreads rapidly throughout the crowd until even Tony finds himself taking up the call. Everyone’s happy and unafraid to show it to Thor as he stands there. From Tony’s spot, he can see the sheen of tears that Thor has shed, unable to contain them at the outpouring of love and support from his family, friends, and countrymen. But Thor speaks up eventually, after taking the time to compose himself into the regal image that’s expected of him.

“My friends”, he calls out, not shouting over much but his words easily overcome the noise in the room. Everyone falls silent. “My friends, you know I am no master of words or crafter of great speeches, but I will endeavor to speak as best I can on this day”. Thor steps forward slowly, taking a few steps down so he can still be seen above the crowd, but no longer towering above it all. “I cannot give voice to what this moment means to me, nor find the words to properly thank you all the support that you have given. I can only hope that through my reign I might repay your faith, and be the king that these realms deserve. These oaths I have sworn today are the most important I have ever beholden myself to, and I will uphold them with my life”.

The hall fills with cheering again, kind of like a classic Queen concert but bigger and more Viking. This time Thor lets it go, and just yells louder over them all. “Now let us celebrate the proper way, and feast!” The noise level doesn’t die even as the mass of people starts to disperse out from the hall, but Thor heads to one of the side halls, and Tony follows with the team. He wants to catch up with Loki, who is walking with Thor and Odin, but Frigga catches his arm at a slower pace, and Tony can’t bring himself to peel away when the former Queen is beaming so widely and everyone is high on joyous excitement.


	3. Now there are thoughts like these

The feasting that night is a loud and raucous affair that puts every night prior to shame. The crowds are overwhelming, far too much for any single room in the palace, so instead it’s held outside in the garden complexes. People move and dance between tiers of green and shrubbery, the music magically attuned so that the dancers don’t lose the song as they twirl from one grassy dance floor to another. Tony ditches his cane in his room then throws himself into the celebrating wholeheartedly, though he does skip on the alcohol. The atmosphere is enough to leave him dizzy, and the constant flux of revelers through the gardens quickly sweeps Tony away from the rest of his teammates.

Tony’s not really dancing as he drifts along, the steps of the dances too complex and fast for him to care to attempt, but it’s fun to get lost in the sea of people, all celebrating with abandon. Stars shine overhead in the darkening sky, and lights blink on in foliage around them as the party goes on for hours, all without Tony ever seeing a familiar face. He circles through all the tiers and separate gardens, and as the night is truly dark, he is back to the center most space where the musicians are seated and a great fire pit lights the partiers.

“Tony”, a voice calls, and the man turns to see Thor striding through the crowd towards him. Tony grins to match Thor’s smile, and the two of them meet with a great hug which Tony laughs through. “Are you having fun?” Thor asks as he lets the genius go.

“Of course, your Majesty”, Tony teases, and Thor snorts as he shakes his head.

“It is so strange to be called that now”, the new King returns. “I’ve been raised for this throne, but I have never truly known what to expect. I’m not sure that I am prepared for this even after all this time”. Thor looks tired as he speaks, something like anxiety creasing the corners of his eyes.

Tony nods, but slaps a hand to Thor’s shoulder with a small comforting smile. “You’ll do good”, he tries to be reassuring - well, as reassuring as he’s capable of. “And if you don’t, you have a whole team of people willing to straighten you out”.

“That I do”. Thor’s laughter is closer to its normal boisterous tone as they slowly migrate away from the center towards the edge of the garden. It’ a little quieter over here and offers more privacy. “But I hear that you are taking away my most trusted and useful keeper”, the blonde says, a little more seriously, and Tony hopes he isn’t about to get an Asgardian shovel talk.

“I extended an invitation, yeah”, Tony admits, “but I’m sure Loki would be happy to come back and kick your ass back into shape whenever it’s needed”.

“Oh there is no doubt of that”, the Trickster in question drawls as he’s suddenly at Tony’s side. He’s in the same outfit as before but without the helmet. “Someone has to keep this oaf in line”. Thor chuckles fondly at the comment, one hand heavy on Tony’s shoulder and his other catching Loki’s arm.

“I am happy for you both”, the thunder god rumbles, and Loki watches him suspiciously even as Tony smiles. “Now you will be too busy with each other to cause the rest of us trouble”. Tony can’t help it; he laughs loudly, and so does Thor, but Loki scowls and shoves his brother away viciously.

“See what help you get from me now”, the god threatens, but Thor walks away with a grin, obviously not bothered at all.

“Well, he’s right, you know”, Tony soothes, and Loki turns his scowl on the man. Tony disregards it as he slips an arm around Loki’s waist and pulls them together. Immediately, Loki’s face goes red, staring at Tony’s lascivious smirk. He probably doesn’t realize that he’s already leaning in, completely focused on Tony’s lips as the man licks them and leans up. “I can think of much better things to do than pulling pranks at this party”.

For a brief moment after Tony moves in, he can feel thin lips pressed to his, and the heat of Loki’s body against his front, but then they both vanish as Tony is shoved hard enough to force him back a step. He splutters, frowning in confusion, but Loki is talking before Tony can think of anything to say.

“No”, the god hisses sharply, glaring at Tony with a blush still on his cheeks. “This is not how it’s going to work”. Tony gapes, but steps closer to Loki; the god doesn’t stop him, but he doesn’t look happy either.

“You were all over me this morning, but you aren’t interested now?” Tony questions, though the not-so-subtle bulge at the front of Loki’s pants says something different.

“We are going to dance first”, the Trickster demands, hands clenched at his sides, but now that Tony really looks, Loki isn’t scowling imperiously so much as pouting. He looks like an embarrassed, petulant brat, and Tony feels a smirk trying to pull up the corners of his mouth. He resists, wanting Loki to continue, which the god does. “And then we will find someplace private to speak for a while before retiring to my chambers where you will fuck me well into the morning”.

Tony doesn’t even try to stop the grin from spreading across his face now, because, “Are you trying to court me? You are, aren’t you?” Loki doesn’t take the teasing well, not as his eyes flash darkly for a moment, but Tony really can’t help himself. It’s adorable and flattering at the same time, which makes Tony want to kiss Loki silly even for thinking of it. He doesn’t get a chance, though, because Loki’s gaze drops, looking at Tony’s chest with an almost sad expression.

“I want to do things differently, this time”, the god admits, and Tony’s laughter is gone, replaced by something fluttering and tight in his stomach. “You are the most precious thing I have had in ages, and I will not lose you to my own folly. I don’t want to hide how I feel - not from myself or from others, and especially not from you”. Yep, there is some serious fluttering going on inside Tony’s chest, and the tightness has locked up his throat, but Tony doesn’t know what he could say anyway. Instead, he slips a hand around the back of Loki’s neck and pulls the god into a slow, gentle kiss. He gives it all he has, feeling Loki melt under the soft pressure of his lips.

When they finally pull back from each other, the red on Loki’s cheeks has retreated to a faint flush staining the edges of his cheekbones and Tony is smiling softly, his hands running deliberately over Loki’s shoulders. “Now”, the man starts, “go ahead. Sweep me off my feet”.

Loki blinks for a long moment, but he’s grinning with mischievous intent, his arms already pulling Tony into some sort of dancing position. “With pleasure”, he drawls, and then Tony is being dragged out into the swirling masses of people, the follower to Loki’s lead. He can barely keep his feet under him through the steps of the unfamiliar dances, but it’s fun, and he laughs through it as Loki laughs with him.

At some point, the songs change, blending near seamlessly from one to another, and Tony’s pretty sure that some of them call for partners to be exchanged. He always ends up back in Loki’s grip, though, no matter the tune, and Tony can’t say he minds. Loki likes to spin him a little too much, mostly just to see Tony practically fall back into his arms, but Tony lets him, taking his revenge by making sure to lean into the Trickster as much as possible. It becomes like a game, then – Loki tries to quite literally sweep Tony off his feet while Tony attempts to turn the god on with some very unsubtle rubbing and groping.

Tony’s clearly winning after a short while, Loki’s eyes getting darker with lust over the course of the latest dance. He feels a bit bad to be pushing the god’s buttons after his earlier heartfelt speech, but he forgets to care after a roll of his hips has Loki failing to smother a whimper. In petty revenge for the move – and for the victorious smirk Tony is sporting - Loki sends the man tripping over his own feet with a particularly vicious twirl. Arms deftly snag him, though, before he can fall flat on his face. Tony quickly realizes they aren’t Loki’s arms when he nearly gets a face full of lavender fabric over moderately-sized breasts.

He straightens immediately as best he can, grateful for the help his new partner gives him as he gets his feet back under him. Surprisingly, somehow, he’s ended up dancing with the important Lady of Jotunheim, and Tony has a brief moment of panic as she eyes him coolly before turning on the charm full force. “Fancy meeting you here”, he remarks with a slick smile, not at all bothered by the fact that she’s leading their dance. She probably actually knows these dances, after all.

“Mr. Stark”, she greets him back with a nod and a muted smile. “I have been looking forward to speaking with you all day”. Tony raises an eyebrow, at eye-level with the woman, who is almost exactly the same height as him. Up close, he can admire the wrap of silky fabric around her body, tight along top and loose from the waist down. The color is a startling contrast to her matte blue skin and black hair.

“Well you have me now”. Tony tries to tamp down on the suspicion, he really does, but people in authority who want to speak with him normally want something that Tony isn’t willing to give. Everybody always wants something from him. He thinks he does a good job of keeping the ice out of his voice for now, at least until she starts making strongly worded requests. The woman doesn’t seem at all bothered.

“Indeed”, she says stoically, not elaborating for a long moment that makes Tony feel like he should be making a break for it. Briefly, he wishes for Loki to interrupt, but no such luck. The woman speaks up again as the song switches over to something a little less loud. “I wanted to ask you for a favor”, she begins, and Tony braces himself for the unpleasant conversation surely to follow. “If you would introduce me to your partner, I would be indebted to you. I have tried to approach him on my prior visits to Asgard, but he seems to wish nothing to do with me”.

That’s… not at all what Tony was expecting, and he blinks, confused but no less suspicious. “Loki?” he questions, seeing the aforementioned god glaring at them over the soldier of the woman as they dance. She nods, lips quirking into a small smirk as she guesses who exactly Tony is looking at. “Why?”

“Is it so strange I might wish to know my brother?” she shoots back, and Tony feels immediately chastened and curious, looking a little sheepish. Not that he really should because how would he know, and maybe he should be suspicious of that claim, but there’s something more convincing about it than just the resemblance she does bear to Loki. When he starts to apologize, however, she cuts him off. “Don’t apologize. I shouldn’t have expected you to know that when it isn’t common knowledge”.

Tony nods, lips tight as he frowns slightly. He’s not sure if he should press, but if this woman wants to meet Loki, and Loki is avoiding her, then he needs a better idea of what’s going on. “So what’s the story?” he asks, and feels some relief to not have offended her when she nods.

“I am the daughter of Laufey, whose name I’m sure that you know”. Tony nods, so the woman continues. “Loki and I, though, do not share a mother. From what I know, the prince was first born, but lost during the war”.

“I’d heard it was a little more deliberate than just losing his kid”.

“I have heard that as well”, the woman says with a nod, not seeming to be bothered by Tony’s interruption. “I can’t say for certain either way. The prince’s mother was lost as well, perhaps killed when Laufey and his loyal supports were chased into the mountains to the north. From there, Laufey sought to build a true monarchy over at least those within his immediate control, and doing so requires an heir. Some women offered themselves up to him, sure of his royal status, but others were taken from the lands nearest to Laufey’s stronghold. If they failed to fall pregnant or produced a female child, they were discarded”.

The woman falls quiet as the voices rise in the crowd, but it’s just a group calling for a different song, and the band gives it to them. She picks up again when their talk can be reasonably muted by the music. “It’s impossible to say who even my mother was, or whether she was one of the willing, but Laufey kept his growing number of daughters near at hand for reasons only he could say. I was raised in that farce of a royal court, and I hated the ruin we were meant to suffer just for the sake of our father”. The woman turns them slightly with the flow of the music, pointing with the tilt of her head to the side. Tony follows the glance, and catches sight of the other Jotun woman speaking lightly with Frigga and Thor, her head scarf missing to reveal fiery red hair. Now that Tony is closer, he can also tell that her eyes are not the full red of the Jotun’s but maybe green. Then the two dancers are moving in another direction, and the group passes out of Tony’s sight.

“That is my sister, Odilia”, the woman says, “much as Loki is my brother”. She catches the question at the tip of Tony’s tongue before he even opens his mouth. “Not everyone who lives in Jotunheim is a Jotun. We are a large realm with land that is not suited for Jotuns to live in, and many people seeking solitude come to Jotunheim. Often, those who govern don’t even know of these homesteads. They are not of much concern, and if they wish for peace, then they can have it. Odilia’s mother is of the rocky north of Alfheim who came to Jotunheim for that reason, and in desperation Laufey stole her up for his own, but the results were the same and she was sent away. In her dissatisfaction, however, she took Odilia and any other girl willing from the palace. I was the only who was more angry than scared, and so I was the only one to leave”.

“So when the full force of the Bifrost came down on Laufey’s head, you didn’t die”, Tony concludes. The woman full out smirks this time.

 

“The damage was localized to that particular ice shelf in the mountain range. The rest of the continent didn’t even notice, though I was much farther away than that”, she remarks casually. “Odilia and I are the only remaining children of Laufey’s line, not that it’s much of a claim as Jotunheim has no true throne. Instead, I’ve earned my way as diplomat seeking the peace and stability that we had before everything went to shit”. The woman laughs rather savagely. “I’m rather glad for that Bifrost attack, actually. It has saved my so much trouble from having to remove Laufey with my own resources or convince a bunch of diplomats to support that fight”.

Tony’s a bit startled at her laughter, but it doesn’t bother him. He’s aware that waging wars isn’t fun, and he can’t blame summon for being relieved to have the work done for them. “So you’ve taken over then”, Tony chuckles, shaking his head.

“Exactly”, the woman agrees. “And now here I am, asking you for a favor so that I might thank the brother I’ve never known for killing our father and letting Jotunheim finally have a chance to heal”.

“Sounds like a mess when you put it like that”, Tony comments with a snort.

“It is a mess”, she returns. “But will you do it?”

Tony sighs, but he nods. The woman’s eyes seem to light up for a moment before she masks it with a polite smile. “I will need a name, though, if you don’t mind”.

And the woman laughs, not cruelly this time, but loud and delighted. She masters herself quickly, but it makes Tony smile. “Apologies”, she says with a slight giggle. “It is novel to meet someone who doesn’t know me already. I am Amalasuintha, Vettir of Jotunheim. But I prefer Amala in friendly company”.

“Tony Stark”, Tony replies with a wink, “good to meet you”. Amala rewards him with a real smile. “Now how about you waltz me over to whatever dark corner my missing boyfriend has found to sulk in”.

“With pleasure”, Amala hums, and then they are spinning off to the side, from one garden into another until Tony’s not sure what direction he’s facing anymore. He just knows that Loki’s family seems to be full of wicked dancers and mischief makers, and he’s not sure if he can handle meeting the third of the siblings tonight.

 

* * *

 

Amala takes a circuitous route, and Tony thinks about being annoyed by that until he spots Loki as they move, not so subtly moving through the crowd to follow them. He realizes that the god must have been stalking them this whole time and smiles, knowing now that Amala wasn’t leading them to Loki but leading Loki away to a more private location. They end up on a balcony overlooking Asgard’s sea in one of the outermost gardens of the complex. The music here fades away beneath the sounds of the surf below them, and Tony leans against the balcony’s railing, a little winded despite his boost in stamina from the golden apple he had recently consumed. Amala doesn’t lean with him, but she does stand close at hand, smiling lightly and politely refraining from teasing the poor not-so-mortal.

Loki isn’t long in joining, apparently long past caring about looking casual and fully into a jealous fit. He does pull up short, though, when Amala and Tony both look at him. “Vettir Amalasuintha”, he begins, “I apologize for intruding but I must steal the Man of Iron back from you. I have need of him immediately”.

Tony’s eyebrow inches upward in barely concealed amusement. Loki’s got his cat claws out and is ready to engage; it’s kind of adorable and incredibly funny. But Tony promised Amala a proper introduction, so he takes a step forward, putting himself slightly between the two. He plasters on the most charming smile he has, trying to project an air of ‘you love me’, but Loki seems to see right through it.

“Hey”, Tony starts, Loki’s arched eyebrow letting everyone know just how unimpressed and annoyed he is. “Loki, this is Vettir Amala of Jotunheim”. There’s a long moment before Loki finally gives a terse nod, so Tony turns to Amala. “And this is Loki, Ambassador to Midgard”. Amala smiles slightly, stepping around Tony to offer her hand to Loki.

“A pleasure to finally meet you, Ambassador”, she greets, hand held out like a peace offering, but Loki is staring at her like she’s a viper baring its fangs. Tony smothers the urge to swallow around the awkward tension in the air. Instead he clears his throat, looking pointedly to his god until Loki finally pulls it together and takes Amala’s hand. Well, attempts to at least.

Amala moves fast, her offered hand wrapping around his wrist and pulling the tense god into a hug, wrapping an arm tightly around his back and pressing her forehead to his shoulder. It’s weirdly sweet to Tony, even as he’s still a little stunned by the sudden display of affection. Loki looks even more stunned, looking from Amala to Tony as if either might provide him with answers. Then Amala says something to him, something too quiet for Tony to hear even just a few steps away, and Loki is hugging her back. It’s hesitant – or Loki is, at least – but Loki’s hands clasp at the fur draped around Amala’s body, and he presses his face into her shoulder.

The Vettir is smart, Tony observes, as she’s carefully placed herself so that there is no direct skin contact with Loki. Vaguely, he remembers that skin-to-skin contact is what triggered Loki’s change to his native skin so long ago, and it seems Amala is aware of that and trying to deliberately avoid such exposure for Loki’s sake. Tony shuffles back a step as he watches, not sure if he should hang around. Sure they are hugging now, but that doesn’t mean everything is going to stay so sweet for long, especially not where Loki is concerned – and especially if Amala is as similar to her half-brother as she seems to be. But still, this is some private family bonding, and Tony feels out of place.

The decision is made for him, though, when the siblings break apart. Almost immediately, it’s back to formalities between the two, polite smiles on both of their faces. Tony can read the tumultuous emotions in Loki’s eyes and how they are just a little too bright and pinched to be truly a mask. Amala is harder to read, but it’s a safe bet that she is equally affected. Tony’s lips quirk up in an adoring smile, and he wants to hug them both and join in on the love-fest.

“It was an honor, Ambassador Loki”, Amala states, and she bows deeply, the fingers of her right hand pressed lightly to her lips. After she straightens, Loki returns the gesture.

“For me as well, Vettir”, he returns, smiling with more warmth as he stands upright again. Then Amala turns to Tony, and he finds himself pulled into a hug. He accepts with a happy laugh, not at all bothered by the cool, rough texture of her patterned skin as their cheeks brush.

“Thank you for this”, she says quietly before pulling away.

He brushes the gratitude away. “No problem”. Amala shakes her head, but lets it go, bowing to him now in the same manner she did for Loki.

“A pleasure to meet you as well, Ambassador Stark”. Tony copies the bow, though it’s not exactly as mechanically perfect as either of the others. It’s enough, he supposes, because Amala certainly doesn’t take offense.

“Good to meet you too, Vettir Amala”. When Tony is upright again, she’s already moving away, smiling at both him and Loki, who has taken a step to stand at Tony’s side. It’s fascinating – and a bit sad, in a way – to watch her walk away, posture lengthening and chin raised sharply against disdain as she slips into the populated areas again. In only a few moments, she has transitioned from a friendly face to a proper diplomat as if the other mask never existed. Tony stares after her, feeling as if somehow everything has been rearranged in his life without his notice or permission, trying to figure out just what to do with the stuff that’s been left behind.

Loki’s hand brushes along Tony’s arm and his awareness, the touch pulling him back to the present and the god at his side. “She ruined my plans”, Loki whines, and Tony just laughs. He doesn’t even need to look at the Trickster to know that he’s pouting, though more playfully than anything else. So Tony slips an arm around Loki’s waist and turns into him slightly, staring up brightly when Loki’s arm falls across his shoulders. The god looks back with such adoration and indulgence that Tony has to kiss him, his other hand wrapping around the back of Loki’s neck to pull him down.

Loki responds immediately, leaning into Tony and cupping his face with both hands. His breath is warm against skin cooled by the chill in the night air, and the contrast makes Tony’s lips tingle with the contact. He’s inclined to chase the heat, pushing forward into Loki and opening up their mouths with the press of his tongue. Loki moans with the contact; the sounds Loki makes are sinfully addicting, and Tony’s rediscovering it. He’s more than willing to take whatever excuse Loki has for increased sensitivity if it means he gets to make Loki make those sounds.

Tony breaks the kiss, tugging back from Loki’s hold and away from his searching lips. It’s late enough that they can reasonably ditch the party, and there are better things to do then make-out in a garden. “Come on”, he mutters, taking one of Loki’s hands. “Let’s tell the others we’re leaving, and then we can spend the rest of the night in bed”.

That’s all it takes for Loki to refocus, the dazed look fading as he straightens. He places a proprietary hand on Tony’s back and practically drags him through the partiers. They find Clint and Bruce first, both looking tired but still going strong amongst a small group of assorted peoples. Tony makes some vague excuse and gets waved off immediately, and Bruce reminds him that they are leaving tomorrow. Then Tony and Loki are off in the crowd again, similar scenes playing out with Natasha and Steve.

They do actually stop to speak with Thor for a moment. Loki might not have allowed it, but Thor catches both their arms and hugs them again. His cheeks are ruddy from drink, and he’s kicked the volume up a few more decibels, but he still looks regal, like something has changed in him because of the coronation. Thor promises to see them off in the morning, and Tony nods. He and Loki duck out of the gardens, then, and it’s almost like they race back to Loki’s rooms. Though Loki cheats in the end, using a burst of magic to knock Tony over so that the god can sweep him up into a bridal carry and dart, laughing, over the threshold.


	4. They keep me on my feet

Tony ends up dumped on the bed, bouncing amongst the numerous blankets as he tries to stay mostly upright. Loki lands next to him with a loud thump that shakes the entire thing, laughing with mischievous delight. One of his hands is tangled around the edges of Tony’s tunic, keeping them close even on their sides in the bed. Tony’s own hand follows up Loki’s arm as he chuckles as well, finally resting to cup the god’s jaw. It causes Loki’s laughing to trail away, but the elation still makes his eyes seem to glow preternaturally bright in the dim light of the room. He’s watching Tony, unhesitant and unabashed in his staring, maybe for a sign or some move. Whatever it is, though, it’s clear that he’s waiting for Tony before anything else, no matter how worked up the Trickster may have been.

It’s an invitation Tony sees no reason to turn down. He isn’t concerned or worried anymore, doesn’t feel like he needs to push Loki away, so instead he leans in and brings their lips together. In a way, it’s almost like coming back to an old home, someplace that’s full of so many memories that have faded at the edges, not quite the same but still so familiar. There’s no question that Loki remembers how to steal the breath from Tony’s lungs, knows how to kiss him so well that Tony can’t think beyond that delicious contact.

Their bodies align on the bed through an instinctive desire for closeness, and Tony wraps one leg around Loki’s to hold them that way. He feels hot under his outfit, so it’s a relief to let Loki push the leather back from his shoulders and off, discarded carelessly somewhere behind Tony. He tries to return the favor, to slide his hands under Loki’s robes, but the layered fabric keeps getting tangled around his searching finger, and the god is still wearing the stiff metal and leather armor too. When Loki doesn’t seem to notice the engineer’s very serious problem, Tony breaks away with a whine.

“Off”, he demands eloquently, and he probably looks just as petulant as Loki did before, but the god doesn’t tease. Loki is flushed, taking in a deep breath like he’s gotten lightheaded, and his eyes flicker as they take in all of Tony’s face. The hands around Tony’s body squeeze tighter for a moment, but then they release and Loki stands from the bed. Tony rolls onto his back to face him.

Loki draws his hands across his body, long fingers sliding slowly along the edge of the metal collar, and it disappears under his touch. The vambraces follow next, and then the belt and the rest of the metal armor is gone. The rest of the fabric remains, and Loki makes no moves to change that. Tony sits up, but Loki stands back a step from him, eyes locked onto Tony with an intensity that shivers at the base of the engineer’s spine. Disbelief, the fear of ‘too good to be true’… both seem to flicker in Loki’s face amongst relief and sadness and a burnt-out hope.

So Tony reaches out with his hands, catching the edges of Loki’s robes and pulls the lost god in. There’s nothing he can say that Loki will really believe or that will change the way he’s feeling, but at least Tony can provide a physical reaffirmation that this is true and will be for a long time. He drags Loki in to stand between his spread legs, just a few inches short of having the god’s thighs to Tony’s chest. He hold Loki’s gaze the entire time, almost needing the intimacy of it, the slow electric buzz it sets under his skin. There’s a stifling hum in the air; Tony can hardly catch his breath as it consumes him.

Loki looks ready to bolt from the heat - the demand for something so great it will definitely change them both. Tony keeps his movements slow to keep the god grounded and here. He holds Loki close with one hand as the other slips under the layers of Loki’s robes, feeling him tremble. The outer most one is easily tugged away, falling from the still god’s shoulders with no resistance even as Tony’s already moved on to undoing the next. He pushes his hand under the layers of fabric until Loki’s bare skin is against his palm. Loki takes a deep breath but doesn’t let it go.

With the robes gone, Tony pushes Loki’s tunic up out of the way. He’s given an entire expanse of shuddering, sensitive skin to admire, pale flesh so tempting he can’t help but to kiss it. He does so softly and gently without ever taking his eyes off of Loki until the god breaks their gaze himself. The chaste brush of Tony’s lips on his skin has Loki’s head falling back with a groan, so Tony does it again and again, peppering kisses along the quivering muscles of the god’s chest and abdomen.

As he does this, the engineer’s hands fall to the waist band of Loki’s trousers. Tony’s lips follow his hands, and he places a kiss just above where Loki’s cock is tenting the fabric obscenely. The god’s hands grip at Tony’s shoulders, holding tightly as his body curls forward above the smaller man. “Tony”, Loki gasps silently, but he’s shushed as one hand settles on his waist to hold him steady.

“I’ve got you”, Tony murmurs. He’s trying to undo Loki’s trousers one handed, but failing at that, he settles for nuzzling and mouthing at Loki’s cock through them. Loki shudders again with a moan, pressing against the hold Tony has on his hips, so the engineer soothes him once more. “I’ve got you”.

That’s all it takes to have Loki coming in his pants, shaking to pieces in Tony’s hands. Tony watches him do it, staring in awe as this god – his god – falls apart so beautifully. Loki leans on him heavily, still half-dressed but nearly toppling them both over onto the bed as his knees give out from the rush of pleasure, and when Tony tilts his head back, the god presses their forehead’s together, noses brushing. He’s panting, and Tony basks in it, open mouthed and breathing heavily himself.

Before Loki can think again, Tony is moving on. His hands make quick work of the god’s trousers, peeling them down and away so effectively that Loki hardly notices. He catches on pretty quick when Tony starts pushing at his tunic, and then that’s gone, leaving Loki stripped and exposed to the hunger in Tony’s eyes. He’s half-hard still, and it doesn’t take much to make him desperate again. This time though, Tony pulls him onto the bed.

Laying back, Loki stretches, arching up to chase Tony’s heat when the man sits back. “Anthony”, he whines, glaring pitifully up, but Tony laughs.

“Hush you”, the engineer teases, tugging off the leather vest of his own outfit. It comes off easily after so much practice, and Tony strips himself as quickly as he can manage without falling over. Loki seems to take great interest in the process, so Tony puts on a bit of a show as he works.

“I wanted to do that”, the god admits breathlessly as Tony unfastens the belt of his own trousers, making him smile. He pushes the pants down and kicks them hastily away. Then, he climbs up onto the bed, straddling Loki thighs.

Tony laughs when Loki glares again, this time more successfully. “Too late”, he says with a chuckle, “maybe next time”. Loki doesn’t look like he’ll let that slide so easily, starting to say something himself, but he is distracted by Tony’s hand placed strategically on his hip, thumb just resting by Loki’s cock. Now, whatever hesitance or reluctance Loki might have had is entirely gone, and the god grabs Tony roughly and pulls him into a fierce kiss – the kind that tastes a little like battle and ends when it becomes too hard to breathe. There’s a tide to it; neither Loki nor Tony fighting for dominance as giving it in equal measure, but Tony bears down into it anyway, giving with all he has.

He finally has to break away when cool, lithe fingers slide slowly along the line of his pelvic bone, sending a shiver down his spine in response as they slick through sweat and across tensed muscles. Looking down, he can see that Loki’s eyes are caught on the movement of his own hand, so enraptured seeing his body against Tony’s in such an intimate manner. It drives an intoxicating pleasure through Tony as he watches Loki watch him, knowing that the god hasn’t even noticed yet, so caught up as he is in such a simple movement. When Tony shivers, Loki does as well.

It’s when he finally looks up, eyes meeting with Tony’s, that Loki’s chest expands and pulls in the hot air between them. Tony kisses again him on the exhale, tasting the heat and sweat on Loki’s lips and wanting to chase after it. He brings his hands to Loki’s face, cradling his head there as he explores with touch through hands and lips. A sharp tug from Loki brings his weight falling against the god’s chest, neither of them minding how perspiration slicks their skin together.

Everything is reduced to the sensations between them, flares of pleasure where their bodies meet. Loki’s arms are folded around Tony, enveloping him entirely in a desperate bid for more. Tony lets himself be held down, pushes harder back even, and on instinct, he rolls his hips down into Loki. The god shudders, moaning against Tony’s lips, and so he does it again, encouraging more noises from the willing body beneath him.

Loki’s reactions are too much, and Tony only drives him on, pulling moans and gasps from the pale god that taste exquisite against Tony’s lips. It’s only one long, sweltering moment into the next, time lost to something bittersweet being reforged into a new, brighter and burning passion. Any desire for careful mapping and exploration is abandoned for the chase, and with each wave of their bodies together, Tony pushes Loki closer to the heights and finally over into ecstatic madness.

The trickster spends for a second time between them, adding to the slickness of their skin, and Tony stops to breathe in, his own reckless pursuit of release discarded in favor of watching Loki fall apart. The god is shaking even harder this time, and Tony wraps him up tightly into a hug to help. Loki melts into the embrace. Still, however, the trembling doesn’t quite stop, not even as Tony runs a hand along the god’s back. A muffled sob against Tony’s collarbone confirms that it’s not merely from Loki being oversensitive.

“I love you”, is all Tony can think to say, pressing a kiss into Loki’s hair. It doesn’t have an obvious effect on the quaking Trickster, but Tony is content to wait, even as hard as he currently is. It doesn’t take long before Loki’s quieted, anyway, and then he’s pulling Tony closer himself, placing open-mouthed kisses against the engineer’s neck and shoulder.

A slight shift in positions reveals that Loki is hard once again, moaning as Tony thrusts against him. “I need you in me”, the god hisses, digging his nails into Tony’s back when he chuckles. Not that Tony can help it; he’s kind of riding on an emotional high at the moment. He’s having _fun_ and sexing up someone he loves, and it feels good. When Tony pulls back, it’s with a grin on his face and a cheeky wink.

“Sure thing, Legs”. Loki practically shoves Tony off, kicking up to dislodge the happy man and knock him onto the bed. Tony rolls with it to the side of the bed, reaching up onto the night stand where a bottle of lube materializes in a swirl of green by his searching hand. He takes it, crawling back across the bed to settle on his knees between Loki’s legs. “So eager”, he huffs as Loki spreads his legs just a bit wider with a pointed glare.

Tony does as his Loki wants, brushing a kiss to the side of Loki’s bent knee as he warms the lube between his fingers before pressing one against Loki’s entrance. The god pushes back, easily sinking down onto the finger – much too easily for someone 20 years out of the game. The look he shoots up at Loki doesn’t go unnoticed, not even as Loki continues to fuck himself down on Tony’s hand.

“I have my own hands, Stark”, the Trickster growls, cheeks flushed despite how he attempts to cover up the embarrassment with aggravation. “And Asgard does get so terribly boring”.

“Even with all the craziness of the last month?” Tony presses, adding a second finger when Loki huffs in mock annoyance. The god moans at the greater stretch, arching a little into the pressure. He seems determined to ignore Tony’s teasing, especially because they both know how Loki’s been spending his free time. He eases up when no response immediately comes from the god, kissing up Loki’s leg as he leans closer. Instead, Tony stares up at Loki with adoration as he rests his head against Loki’s thigh, “You missed me”.

“I did”, the god says softly after a long moment, glancing down at Tony with a doting smile. Tony smiles brighter in return and rewards the god by hooking his finger and searching for the spot that he vaguely remembers driving Loki mad. He finds it immediately. It feels like an accomplishment as Loki gasps, head thrown back into the pillow and grinding down against Tony’s fingers. Tony pushes back even more, adding a third finger just to feel how Loki’s body stretches around him.

Loki groans at the additional pressure, but he hooks his leg around Tony’s waist, pulling the man in, and so Tony doesn’t feel particularly worried at being a bit rough. After all, he’s been waiting all night without the relief that Loki has had (twice), and his patience isn’t eternal. He settles for leaning over Loki, one hand planted on the bed as he fucks Loki roughly with his other, smirking sharply when the god nearly chokes on a startled moan before wrapping his arms around Tony’s neck. He pulls them into another heated kiss – this time with more than a little biting – but finally shoves Tony away just as he is getting close.

“Anthony Stark”, Loki growls, voice rough with lewd intentions, “if your cock is not in me by the end of the night, I will set something on fire!”

“Well, at least it’s not the window again”, Tony can only say with a chuckle, but he gives in and removes his fingers, graciously not pointing out the quiet whine from Loki as he does. Loki’s arms are still wrapped around his neck, and the god’s grip tightens as Tony lines himself up. He doesn’t immediately push in, though, not until Loki finally looks up at him. Loki’s green eyes are liquid, pupils blown wide, and his panting sounds almost pained, but he holds Tony’s gaze even as the man starts to push slowly in.

It’s only when Tony’s bottomed out that he looks away, groaning as he bites his lip. Tony has to press his forehead against Loki’s shoulder just to keep from thrusting wildly. It has been awhile since he’s last done this, and he had forgotten how truly overwhelming the feeling can be. He has to take a deep breath just to steady himself, but then Loki shoots that all to hell by clenching down, and Tony moans loudly, rolling his hips sharply up to wipe the victorious smirk off of Loki’s face.

From then on, Tony’s thrusts are sharp and hurried. The heat of Loki’s body is irresistible – the pleasure too intense – and any control is gone and long forgotten. Tony is lost to the tight grip of Loki around him, the sharp pricks of nails in his back and teeth at his neck the only things that exist beyond the hedonistic bliss of burying himself so fully in Loki that the god can never truly get rid of him. Tony responds in kind, though, wrapping his hand into Loki’s long hair and gripping it fiercely, pulling with each thrust until the god is howling.

That’s how Loki finds his final release of the night, held taunt and pinned beneath Tony’s body, anchored in place by the one man who had become pivotal long before he would ever admit. Tony follows immediately after, giving in to the suffocating vice of Loki’s body around him and bearing down like he has to lock them together forever with this. He says something, or so he thinks, some incoherent call for his god as he rides out his own orgasm, but it might be a sex-induced fever dream.

Tony next finds himself conscious an indiscernible amount of time later, still night outside, but neither he nor Loki have moved at all. Tony has little desire to actually move much at all; his bones feel hollowed out from exhaustion. Loki doesn’t appear much better – he could be asleep for how tired he looks, but when Tony shifts, the god blinks weary eyes open to gaze up at him. Tony feels like he should say something, feels compelled to maybe repeat again what Loki means to him, or give voice to everything that has happened over the course of their relationship, but he’s too tired to actually put his thoughts together so soon.

“So”, he starts, drawing out the word just to break the silence. Loki doesn’t provide anything, so Tony lets his mouth go. It goes with, “I’ve never saved the day with my dick before”. Not Tony’s finest spur-of-the-moment emotional conversation starter, but he rolls with it. “That’s a pretty big first for me”.

And Loki’s face is such a priceless combination of disbelief and honest confusion that Tony doesn’t regret it. The god is actually speechless, too tired to even begin to follow Tony’s nonsense, which makes him very proud in a weird, idiotic way. “What”, Loki starts, but doesn’t finish the question; he doesn’t even really know what he’s asking, and Tony couldn’t stop the self-satisfied grin from spreading across his face even if he wanted to – he doesn’t.

Loki just has to laugh, has no other way to respond to his lover’s gleeful ridiculousness but to laugh heartily under Tony’s glowing smile. “You”, the god tries to say. “You are so absolutely-“. But he just has to shake his head – how does one even begin to describe Tony Stark’s penchant for endearingly stupid behavior? Instead, he takes it as the odd compliment Tony meant it to be. “It’s not often the great Tony Stark has a first time for something in the bedroom, is it?” he teases.

“No”, Tony returns while still grin, slipping sideways to settle only halfway on Loki and tucked against his side. “There’s not a lot of things I haven’t done yet”.

“It might take me awhile to find any more, but I will find them”.

Tony’s grin fades a bit, not any sadder, but now a softer smile than one that is merely delighted. He pulls the tie from Loki’s hair, smooth down the locks he had gripped so tightly before. Loki smiles back much the same, and Tony kisses him with a quiet sigh. “We’ve got time”, he promises, drawing his fingers through the long black locks. They feel like silken strands against his skin, and Tony combs them out, rubbing at Loki’s scalp and easing any remaining tension from the body beneath him. “We’ve got plenty of time”.

Loki hums under the attention, body pliant, and he kisses Tony back just as gently. “Yes, I suppose we do”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this makes for a pretty good holiday gift (or just a cool everyday gift if you aren't celebrating a holiday right now). There will be more, but busy RL stuff means I can't put a timeline on anything - it took me nearly 4 months just to write this chapter alone.  
> Plans are right now for a one-shot prequel about Tony and his wife V, then two full-length sequels that will take place after this epilogue. Hopefully, I manage them pretty quickly, but that's not looking very likely.
> 
> Thank you all for reading and for the wonderful support and comments you have left on this story and on 'Sleep Until the Sun Goes Down'. They have been just so overwhelming and wonderful. I love you all!


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